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The identification comes faster than I expected.

My team traces the alias to a series of contracts—small jobs at first, then increasingly complex work for larger organizations. The pattern suggests someone building a reputation, establishing themselves in a field where discretion is valued more than visibility.

And then, three days ago, a breakthrough.

A cybersecurity firm in Washington, D.C., filed a routine background check for a contract employee. The name on the form matches the digital signature of our hacker. The firm is small, discreet, and has documented ties to several federal agencies.

The name on the form is Davina White.

I read the file three times. Twenty-three years old. American. CEO of a small tech company specializing in cybersecurity and ethical hacking. No criminal record, no known affiliations with intelligence agencies, no apparent connection to any organization that would want to harm us.

This doesn’t make sense.

The skill level I saw in our systems doesn’t match a twenty-three-year-old CEO. The methodology, the patience, the understanding of complex financial architecture, these are things that come from years of experience, not from someone barely out of university.

Yet the digital signature is unmistakable. I see the same code structures and decision-making patterns, the same style. This is the person who breached our systems.

Davina White.

I say the name out loud, testing how it feels in my mouth. It doesn’t fit my expectations. I assumed I was looking for a man. Most hackers at this level are male, so it wasn’t exactly a wrong assumption to make. Except this is a woman. A young woman, apparently, with a company and a public profile and a life that can be traced.

I call Andrei. “I have a name. Davina White. CEO of White Systems, based in Washington, D.C.”

“I’ll have a team ready within the hour.”

“Not yet.” I pause. “I want more information first. Who she is, who she works with, why she breached our systems. This doesn’t add up.”

“Maxim, she—”

“I know what she did. I want to know why.”

The line is quiet for a moment.

“Get me everything,” I say. “Prepare for retrieval. Alive, undamaged, and brought directly to me. I want to see this woman for myself.”

I hang up before he can respond.

Chapter Five - Davina

The restaurant is one of Sienna’s favorites.

It’s a small Italian place near Dupont Circle with exposed brick walls and candles on every table. It’s the kind of place that looks like it was designed for dates, which is exactly why I never would have picked it.

Sienna made the reservation, though, and after the week I’ve had, I don’t have the energy to argue.

She’s already there when I arrive, seated at a corner table with a glass of wine and a smile that says she’s been waiting to interrogate me.

“You look exhausted,” she says as I sit down.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it in a cute way. Like, you’ve been working hard and it’s attractive.” She takes a sip of her wine. “You’re overworked, though. Take it easy for once.”

“I’m not overworked, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You’re perfectly stressed.” She waves at the waiter. “The calamari and the bruschetta to start, please. Then we’ll have the pasta with vodka sauce. Trust me.”

I don’t argue. She’s right about the stress, anyway.